The victorious trumpet
in Ayacucho loudly thunders,
that in every triumph grows
its formidable sound.
In its expansive thrust
Liberty is worn for the first time,
from the American sky
a pavilion forming up.

But it's not complete glory
to defeat in battle,
that the arm that fights
is encouraged by truth.
For independence alone
The great clamour doesn't silence;
if the sun illuminates everyone,
justice is liberty.